And if in Time's remoter hour
Cold doubt should rise, from error bred,
Through me proclaim His godlike power
Who rul'd the tomb and rais'd the dead.
"THERE GO THE SHIPS."
White-rob'd wanderers of the deep,
Whither speeds your trackless way?
Toward some islet's rocky steep,
Crowded mart, or swelling bay?
Polar ice, or tropic clime?
Zone where lingering mystery slept?
Region whence oblivious time
Hath the mouldering empire swept?
Bear'st thou in thy wind-tost car
Wealth to purchase wealth again?
Or the elements of war
Thundering o'er the hostile main?
Hid'st thou in thy hollow breast
Hearts in manly vigor warm?
Courage with his dauntless crest?
Venturous Beauty's fragile form?
Heed'st thou on thy stately course
All the dangers of the wave?
Stretching reefs, or breakers hoarse,
Wrecks that strew the watery grave?
